A Weapon to Wield
by OtaconGamer777
Summary: I have always been a weapon for someone else to wield. Hell, my name literally means weapon in Qunlat. Like I'm less of a person and more an object to be wielded, as a friend once told me. I will become the weapon I need to become. My name is Adaar, and I'm the Inquisitor. IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU VARRIC?


**CHAPTER 1**

I remember a jolt of pain that shot up my arm and my body seized for moment.

Waking up in the dark alone and severely confused, I had no memory of how I got here or where I was going and to top it off I had a helluva headache, like getting a mace to the helmet without the ringing. I felt an acute pain in my hand but when I looked down at it, I didn't notice anything. I got into crouching position, and started looking over myself, trying to find any serious issues.

My green merc armor didn't look any worse for wear. Some of the metal in the left shoulder pauldron was dented, and the light brown scarf was torn in several places, but other than that most of the armor was generally fine. I honestly hated that armor because it wasn't nearly as heavy as I'd like. I preferred much more protection and really I missed my helmet.

An ugly green yellow fog permeated the area and that along with the migraine and it I felt like I was in some kind of fever dream. Blood pounding in my ears from the headache, I looked around at my surroundings and tried to gain a sense of where I was. Stone and stalagmites that would be easily at home in a large cavern dotted the area around me. Small puddles of liquid were on the ground but a small part of me told me it wasn't water.

I stood up and looked, I noticed a stairway some short distance from me leading upward to a platform encircled by tall, cragged spires. And as my eyes followed the stairs and as they adjusted to the haze, I saw an odd looking something looking in my direction. It glowed yellow green and as I squinted my eyes to make it out, I noticed what looked like its head, was shaped like those Chantry hoods. With little else to do I stood up and began walking towards the figure, figuring I had no other way to go. And for some reason she seemed very familiar to me.

Sounds began coming from all around me and I clenched my teeth. Suddenly very anxious, I looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the skittering as I reached for my sword...

...which wasn't at my hip like it should be.

I soon found the source of the sounds and it I still remember the terror in my dreams today. Huge demonic spiders started crawling out from behind the cavernous surroundings. Large bulbous bodies skittered towards me on eight sharp looking legs. I hated spiders. Hell, I fear them in most cases. This? This nearly made me shit my greaves. So I did what any other unarmed person in a foreign landscape, who's scared shitless of spiders, would do.

I ran like hell.

The stairs that I had started walking up, got steeper and steeper until I eventually I started climbing instead. I kept looking behind my back only to see those bastards gaining on me. Hands and feet don't win against eight claw-like legs working in tandem apparently. I looked up to see that ghostly thing looking down at me with an arm outstretched and I grew desperate. I reached out with my left hand and tried to grasp for the offer of help.

Nearly there.

I stretched out and...

* * *

I fell to my knees again and landed on hard, burned cobblestone. I felt weak and my hand felt like it was on fire. I collapsed on my elbow as I tried looking up. Some armored figures approached me, and even though I saw their weapons drawn, I felt tremendous relief even through the burning in my left hand.

I blacked out.

* * *

I never felt myself hit the ground.

I woke up on my knees, kneeling on cold stone.

To say that was uncomfortable would be an understatement.

Made all the more uncomfortable by the fact my arms were bound in shackles and as I shook my myself to clear my head my hand suddenly jolted in pain and green energy.

"What the hell?" I said, grunting in pain. And just then I noticed I wasn't alone. Four human soldiers stood around me and I finally got a good look at where I was. I was kneeling in the middle of a large prison cell. A two torches burn on my left and right sides of the cell. The soldiers we all close to the corners with their swords drawn pointing at me. Two men and two women and all of them looked at me with fear.

I'm used to that. Being as big as I am and the fact I have horns tends to put many people off. But I saw something in their eyes I didn't quite expect to see.

I saw rage.

Rage and righteous anger.

I've dealt with the fear and suspicion all my life. And I've pissed plenty of people off just by existing. But now? These soldiers are looking at me with a lot of anger and fear and I don't think it was because I looked like a heretic ox-man. I did something to truly piss them off. And the thing is...

I didn't know what I did.

In front of me, a door opened and let in some natural light. But it was what was blocking said light that had me more concerned as a black haired woman in different armor walked through the doorway. She wore a black metal chest plate with an insignia, a shield was strapped to her back, and a longsword hung from her waist. Her face had sharp cheeks and dark eyes. And her hair was boyishly short. I noticed the insignia first. An eye in a fiery circle. A Seeker of Truth. An Andrastian elite.

Shit.

It was also about this time another woman appeared from seemingly out of nowhere as she separated from the corner shadows like some kind of ghost. She work some kind of light purple mailed robe with a hood covering her shoulder length red hair and some of her oval face. She looked kindly but right now there was nothing but suspicion in her eyes and something else.

Was that pity?

They both looked striking and attractive but right now, they had me at sword point and as the Seeker started walking around me, the guards put their swords away. The red headed ghost walked towards me with her arms crossed. I feel the Seekers breath on my ear as she leans towards it.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you know?"

Funny enough, that's not the first time I've heard that exact line. Though this is the first time I've felt that it could actually be followed through. This woman felt dangerous. I could feel the killing intent easily and I think she could give my old commander Tully a run for his money in terms of sheer presence. And he is one mean, hard-assed, son of a bitch. And just like with Tully, all I did was just hold my silence.

She pulled back and started again.

"The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead." She pointed a finger at me. "Except for you."

Double shit.

They think I killed everyone.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

This is the fic i decided to write. I had been sitting on this idea for a while now and I just now decided I needed to get it down. As you can tell, this is an Inquisitor Adaar story and if there are any critiques or questions, please leave a review. I look forward to reading them.


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